


raissa

by rhizome_999



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games), Zero Escape: Zero Time Dilemma - Fandom
Genre: Domestic, Family, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhizome_999/pseuds/rhizome_999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Also in Raissa, city of sadness, there runs an invisible thread that binds one living being to another for a moment, then unravels, then is stretched again between moving points as it draws new and rapid patterns so that at every second the unhappy city contains a happy city unaware of its own existence."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>For some reason, everyone ends up living together in a giant house after making it out of the Decision Game. Life is a tricky thing to navigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	raissa

**Author's Note:**

> Title and the quote in the summary are from Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. 
> 
> Sort of canon-compliant, in that ZTD happened. Not canon-compliant, in that I throw everyone in a giant house for the heck of it. So, yeah.

Carlos glances at the clock high up above the doorway to the outside. The moon’s in the wrong position of the sky to illuminate anything inside, but Sigma’s cracked open the fridge just enough for the light to reflect off the glass cover in exactly the wrong way. He’s fairly sure the hour hand is somewhere in the vicinity of three and four, though.

Sigma, for his part, looks unrepentant.

“I was hungry,” he explains. Carlos is used to impossibility, so he doesn’t waste any time wondering why or how Sigma’s tone is simultaneously light and dark. He just nods towards the microwave and its gentle beeping.

“Make sure to stop it before the timer finishes,” he says. When Sigma just looks baffled, he adds, “It’ll be loud if you don’t.”

“Ridiculous,” Sigma mutters. There’s twenty three seconds left and Sigma runs a hand through his hair. “So much extra effort. I’m going to build one that doesn’t do that.”

“Okay,” says Carlos. “That’d be nice, actually.” He thinks back to the times when he and Maria would get busted for trying to reheat leftover pizza for a midnight snack. She’d like a silent microwave when she moves in after being discharged. 

There’s an empty hot pockets box on the countertop that Sigma absently bins on the way to the microwave, and with that mystery solved, Carlos walks over to the cabinet to fish out a glass. It’s automatic, moving his hand past Junpei’s coffee mug and Phi’s prized martini glass—she refuses to drink out of anything else while at home, which is frankly hilarious because Sigma gets uppity about the inefficiency sometimes and they argue like cats and dogs—to pull out a plain glass. 

“What brings you down here?” Sigma asks.

“Needed water,” Carlos answers. His pills are up back beside his bed. the doctor had described his condition as _technically_ phantom pain, which, hey, if it gets Carlos a prescription then he’s not going to argue.

“Ah,” says Sigma. The smell of greasy goodness drifts from the microwave as Sigma pulls the plate out. He grabs a few paper towels and dumps a few hot pockets into them, thrusting the bundle of guilty pleasure in Carlos’s direction. “Have some. Painkillers can have a nasty aftertaste sometimes, and you’ll feel better after getting something to eat.”

The oil’s already seeping into the outermost layer of wrapping. Carlos finishes up at the water dispenser and takes it from Sigma; holding both the glass and the food in the same hand is a bit tricky, but he does manage to pin the makeshift pouch in between his fingers. “Thanks.” Something to settle his stomach might help. Better than thinking about chainsaws the rest of the night.

Sigma mutters something under his breath and picks up the plate. “Night,” he says.

“You’re bringing that up with you?”

Sigma shrugs. “I thought Diana might want something too.”

“Oh, okay.” There’s really no need to prolong these discussions. Sometimes it’s Akane he runs into down here, or Mira and Eric sitting at the kitchen table having serious and uncomfortable discussions that he very specifically tries not listen to. Point is, it happens. “Good night.”

* * *

“We’re not getting a rabbit,” says Akane. “And we are not getting termites either,” she says, eyeing Sigma suspiciously.

“No cats,” Phi insists. She jabs Sigma with her elbow without even looking when he opens his mouth to protest. Carlos is disappointed too, but since Phi’s the one vetoing the idea, he opts to stay silent. He instead wonders why Sigma seems to be at the center of all these pet-related debacles.

“I hear tarantulas are cuddly,” Mira says.

“ _N_ _o_ ,” says everyone, except for Eric, because of course.

“We’re not getting my sister a spider,” Carlos says. He’s trying very hard to resist putting his head in his hands. “Under no circumstances are we ever getting my sister a spider. Or a snake,” he says quickly, when Mira looks like she’s about to cut in.

“Aw.” She pouts.

“We could get another dog,” Junpei chimes in. 

Everyone shoots him the coldest glare Carlos has ever seen. Even Diana joins in.

“We’re not replacing Gab,” Akane says.

“That’s not what I was suggesting!” Junpei throws his hands up in the air. “I’m just saying, we have a dog already. We know nobody’s allergic to dogs. We all like dogs! Ergo, get another dog! Foolproof plan, right?”

Gab woofs and steps on Carlos’s foot. Carlos kneels to pick him up and apparently misses something because when he stands up straight again, Junpei’s huffing and Phi’s staring at her fingernails with an exaggeratedly bored look on her face.

“So it sounds like a no to the dog idea,” he begins, when nobody seems to say anything.

“Got it in one,” Phi says blandly.

“Parrot?” he suggests, straining his mind for some other pet. “Another type of bird?”

“I’d feel sorry for them,” Diana says, fiddling with her necklace and getting a faraway look in her eyes. “Birds aren’t good pets to keep in a house.”

“Okay, no birds.” Sigma doesn’t need to give him the stink-eye to tell him to back off; nobody wants to be responsible for making Diana feel bad. “What now?”

“Most people would suggest furniture or appliances for housewarming gifts,” Phi drawls. 

“It’s our house,” Junpei points out. “We have all the appliances we need.”

“Fish,” Eric suggests.

Everyone pauses. 

“That could work,” says Carlos, slowly. Eric looks quite pleased with himself that nobody shoots down his suggestion immediately. “We never had goldfish or anything but when we were kids, Maria’s favorite movie was Finding Dory.”

Phi blinks slowly. “Is that a movie about fish?”

“Save the Disney marathons for later,” Junpei says, waving a hand. He ignores Carlos’s mildly offended correction of, “Pixar,” and just continues, “Are we really getting a fish?”

“Fish can’t be all that hard to take care of,” Mira says. “I bet we could get two or three. And if it all goes wrong, at least we’ll be set for dinner.”

“No eating pets,” Carlos says, affronted on Gab’s behalf. The dog in question shuffles and barks in what Carlos assumes must be agreement. Mira looks at him oddly just as Gab begins to struggle to be let down again.  


“I wasn’t suggesting we eat the dog,” she says.

“It’ll set a precedent,” he argues. Gab is deposited safely on the floor and he cheerfully scuttles along to the living room.

“So we’re getting the fish?” Akane cuts in.

“Maybe just one after all,” Diana says. She looks to the living room after Gab. There’s a deep frown on her face. “I think we have room for a tank if we move the TV a bit.”

“That’s settled, then,” Carlos says. “We’ll go to a pet shop to get a fish later.”

“Sure.” Junpei shrugs. “Sounds good.”


End file.
